


pretty

by brightest_stars



Series: Noted. [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecure rose, supportive Andromeda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightest_stars/pseuds/brightest_stars
Summary: Andromeda wakes up early and finds a morose teenager in the kitchen. Chats ensue.
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks & Rose Granger-Weasley, Hermione Granger/Andromeda Black Tonks
Series: Noted. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157795
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all!
> 
> A wee gift for ded :) enjoy!
> 
> This year I'm manifesting the year of Andromione!! 
> 
> This little fic was inspired by this — https://www.instagram.com/p/CLo7XhpJZb8/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link . Please please please watch it before you read the story. Please!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7B9LtKPTBE this is a link to the original author of the poem performing it in its entirety.

The house is tidy. Dinner is in the oven. Ice-cream is in the freezer. Hermione is home early from work. Andromeda is excited. She’s so excited, she can barely keep still. The Hogwarts Express will pull into King’s Cross Station in just over an hour. Andromeda goes upstairs again and checks over the kids’ rooms - she straightens the soft blanket on the end of Rose’s bed, and fluffs Hugo’s pillows again.

“Andromeda!” Hermione sighs with exasperation when Andy walks past their home office for the millionth time.

With the good grace to look a little embarrassed, Andromeda sidles into the office. “Hmm?”

Hermione puts down the parchment she’s reading. She may be home from work, but that doesn’t mean she’s done with work. As the Minister for Magic, Hermione is always only one step away from work, but she makes a huge effort to keep work out of their home when the children are back from Hogwarts.

“Why are you so worried? You’ve checked their rooms three times already.” Hermione stands up from her desk and takes Andromeda’s hands in her own. Her voice is soft and understanding.

Andromeda laughs. She can’t help it. One of Hermione’s eyebrows crawls up her forehead. “I’m not worried, I’m excited!” Andromeda leans forward and captures Hermione’s lips in a soft kiss, her thumbs rubbing small circles on Hermione’s hands.

The younger witch hums softly into Andromeda’s mouth, and Andy can feel the smile on her lover’s lips. “We’re going to have  _ such _ a good Christmas,” Andromeda whispers.

Hermione’s hazel eyes crinkle around the edges as she smiles at Andromeda. “We are,” she says warmly. “I can’t wait. But seriously, go and read a book or something. We’ve still got an hour until the Express gets in.”

Kissing Hermione once more, Andromeda leaves her to her work.

~~~

When Andromeda wakes up, it’s dark outside. It’s dark inside too. Hermione is sleeping peacefully, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth. Andromeda allows herself a moment of fondness.

After the war, she’d never imagined she’d find happiness again. Her husband was dead. Her daughter was dead. Her grandson was an orphan.

Slowly, she’d found an acceptance, and a sort of happiness. Teddy was a joyful child, and she’d devoted herself to him. She’d reconnected with her sister, and developed a close relationship with her and her son, and eventually little Scorpius too - who wasn’t actually very little any longer. 

Then Hermione had kissed her. And her life had gone up in sparks. To a world who had forgotten her, suddenly, she was interesting. The papers trawled through her past, writing painful articles about her family - both the family she’d been born into and the family she had created with Ted.

Throughout it all, Hermione and Andromeda had stayed strong. The Minister for Magic had moved in with her, bringing her children too, when they weren’t at Hogwarts. Andromeda had made an effort to connect with Rose and Hugo, and she reaped the rewards of that effort constantly.

Andromeda brushed a curl away from Hermione’s cheek and slipped her feet into her snug slippers, wrapping herself in her fluffy winter dressing gown as she quietly went downstairs.

The clock in the hall told her it was just gone six. Quietly, Andromeda began making a cup of tea, the muggle way. She’d left her wand upstairs, and of course, she could do wandless magic, but Andromeda found the routine of making tea rather soothing.

The teabag is steeping when someone speaks from behind Andromeda.

“Andy?”

Andromeda spins around. Rose is sitting at the kitchen table, in the shadows, as Andromeda had only flicked on the lighting under the kitchen cabinets, not the ceiling lights. The teenager has her feet planted on the chair next to her, knees bent. She’s wearing the new Christmas pyjamas that Andromeda bought for them all.

“Oh, Rose! I didn’t see you there!” Andromeda laughs. “Cup of tea, love?”

“No, thanks,” Rose says quietly. Andy chucks her teabag in the big and adds a splash of milk to her mug. She sits down at the kitchen table with Rose, her hands surrounding her warm mug.

Andromeda takes a sip, and tilts her head. “You’re up very early, hmm? When Teddy was your age, he slept until midday.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Rose gives Andy a timid smile, looking up at Andy through her curly hair.

“Is your mind a little busy?” Andromeda smiles fondly. “Your mum gets like that sometimes too.”

“I guess so.” Rose’s voice is so quiet it’s almost a whisper. She’s very quiet this morning, and Andromeda suspects she might’ve come down here to be alone for a bit with her thoughts.

“I’m always here if you want to talk, love.” Andromeda gets up, and squeezes Rose’s shoulder gently as she passes.

Andy has one foot on the stairs when she hears Rose’s shaky voice call her. “Andy?” Rose’s eyebrows are furrowed into a frown, her nose is crinkled a little, and her eyes are downcast. Her arms are wrapped around her body in a self-comforting hug, her shoulders are hunched forward and down.

Decisively, Andromeda guides Rose into the living room and settles her on the couch. She nips back into the kitchen and reaches into the back of the cupboard for her chocolate biscuits. She grabs two and joins Rose on the couch, handing her a biscuit with a kind smile.

“What’s on your mind, hmm?”

Rose twists her pyjama top around her fingers, her legs tucked under her, body made small against the couch. “I… I’m not… When will I… be pretty?” She whispers the last two words, eyes trained on the mug in Andromeda’s hands, steadfastly refusing to look up at her face. “Will I ever be pretty?”

Andy can see the tears welling up in Rose’s big blue eyes. The teenager is hunched in on herself, muscles constricted by insecurities, making her body as small, and unobtrusive as possible.

When Andromeda looks at Rose, she sees an amalgamation of two figures in a photograph Remus showed her years and years ago, during the war.

First she sees Weasley-red hair, but it has Hermione’s wild and curly texture - prone to frizz and uncooperativeness, unlike Andromeda’s own dark curls. Her skin is pale, but likely to tan with enough time in the sun, just like Hermione’s, but smattered with freckles inherited from her father. She has a button nose, just like her Aunt Ginny, and bold cheekbones like her maternal grandmother. Her eyes are wide - shaped like Hermione’s, but with the bright blue colour of Ron’s. They’re edged with eyelashes darker than her ginger hair, but lighter than the colour of her mother’s brown hair.

Andromeda tilts her head to one side, and considers her answer. Debating with Rose about her prettiness won’t be at all helpful, Andy learnt that lesson with Dora. But what is  _ pretty _ ? Clearly, Rose has her own reasons why she believes she’s not pretty. Prettiness isn’t the end-goal in her life. Andromeda knows this.

Her own childhood had been filled with many things, but her mother’s most common comment had been about the attractiveness of Andromeda and her sisters.

_ “Don’t do that, Andromeda, it’s not pretty. Behave, Bellatrix, your behaviour is unbecoming. Look at your sister, Narcissa is so well behaved, such an attractive girl too. She’ll make the best bride of the three of you, if she reigns in her vanity.” _

“Look at me, Rosie,” Andromeda says gently. She doesn’t speak again until Rose lifts her head and meets Andromeda’s eyes. “Pretty is five letters. Five meaningless letters.  _ Pretty  _ doesn’t encapsulate everything you will be in your life. Don’t let that one, five-letter word contain you, don’t let it constrain you.

You are pretty intelligent. Pretty creative. I think you’re  _ pretty amazing _ , Rose. You will never be merely pretty, because you’re so, so much more than five little letters. Anyone who says you aren’t pretty, they just can’t see everything that you  _ are _ .” Andromeda sets down her mug.

Rose doesn’t say anything, but she launches herself into Andromeda’s arms. Andy wraps her in a tight hug, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“Thank you, Andy,” she mumbles. “Don’t… don’t tell Mum? She’ll just make a big deal about it.”

Andromeda draws back. “I won’t tell Hermione, but you know she loves you and your brother more than anything in the world?”

“I know,” Rose says, blushing.

With a grin, Andromeda pushes Rose towards the stairs. “Off you go back to sleep then, love.”

Rose flashes a wide smile over her shoulder as she leaves, nibbling on her biscuit.

Once the teen disappears up the stairs, Andromeda stands up. Framed in the other doorway is Hermione — slim shoulders and hips, wiry strong arms, and curly hair, still bushy from sleep.

Hermione smiles softly. So many emotions are swirled across her face — love, and sadness, and pride, and nostalgia. All bundled up into one softly lines, slightly tanned, kind face.

Hermione steps forward and Andromeda opens her arms. They meet each other halfway and Hermione lets herself -- gratefully into Andromeda’s warm embrace.

“Thanks,” Hermione whispers. Her voice is a little croaky with sleep and emotion.

Andromeda presses a kiss against Hermione’s temple. She doesn’t answer. Sometimes Andromeda just knows what Hermione is thinking, what she means, by her posture, or her expression, and she knows that Hermione can read her like  _ Hogwarts: A History _ — practically in her sleep.

Sometimes, words aren’t needed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Join us [Linky link to the discord](https://discord.gg/rAKhWJQ)
> 
> It's a Bellamione discord, but we have space for Andromione and Cissamione too!! We'd love to have you!


End file.
